This appeal touched the heart of the other, and she quickly laid her hand into that of the trembling Marian.
"I see your grief is sincere, and, as you say, Jane is always--forgiving, so if it pleases her, you need have no fear from me. But let me get to the office. Are you coming back?" asked Helen.
"Yes, no, I don't know. I am so anxious to see them first, after the train comes in. It will be due very soon. You go along, Helen, and thank you. I hope your friend brings you very good news."
"Oh, he will! Stanislaus never fails!" and at that Helen was off down the stairs, and only the light slam of the door closing, brought to Marian the realization of being alone.
The door opened as she mounted the steps, and Miss Bennet, secretary to Mrs. Weatherbee, awaited her arrival.
"I just phoned over for you, Miss Powderly," she said. "A friend is waiting," and her smile betrayed something of the good news expected.
"Oh, Stanislaus! My friend! My brother!" exclaimed the overwrought Helen, rushing in and grasping the two outstretched hands of the young man who stood in the center of the office. "At last you have come! Oh, it is too good!"
"And as good to me, little sister!" replied the young man affectionately, returning Helen's greeting. "It seems years I have been looking."
"Let us sit down," said Helen, finally releasing the hand of her caller, "over there by the big palm. You see, Stan, I have a very lovely home. And we will tell our story in English, Stan, for Miss Bennet is my very good friend."
Miss Bennet smiled her appreciation of the compliment. Had Helen chosen to use her native tongue, Polish, the secretary would have felt like one endured through sufferance, but English has a way of floating around, even to the corners of such an office as that of Wellington.